


Joan dreams of The Woman

by orphan_account



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Dreams, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan doesn't usually dream. Then one night, she has a dream that she won't forget in a long time - a woman fills her mind and makes her heart flutter, but who is she?</p><p>'She had her back to her, and the sunlight fell on her just so that the arch of her spine   could be seen in the wrinkles and folds her big shirt that was draped over her shoulders, and it illuminated the little of her skin that could be seen above the shirt - the very base of her neck, which made Joan’s heart flutter. To Joan she looked almost ethereal - she simply shone, and Joan wondered whether the woman in front of her could be some kind of angel.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joan dreams of The Woman

Joan never usually dreams. She used to think it a blessing - she'd seen so much sadness and so many horrible incidents as a doctor and a detective that she was glad that it didn't haunt her dreams, because it probably would.

But one night her eyes snapped shut and the next few hours she would spend wrapped up in such a dream that would make her take back every single time that she was glad that she didn't dream.

She was stood in a big room, it was probably empty but she honestly wasn’t sure, because the space was completely dominated by a woman stood in front of a large canvas, that was framed in soft sulight that was coming through the window that was directly in front of her.

Joan would have looked more at where she was, and tried to recognise her surroundings and use some of her detective skills, because the location probably had some significance - but the blonde woman in front of her simply demanded that Joan kept her eyes on her. 

She had her back to her, and the sunlight fell on her just so that the arch of her spine could be seen in the wrinkles and folds her big shirt that was draped over her shoulders, and it illuminated the little of her skin that could be seen above the shirt - the very base of her neck, which made Joan’s heart flutter. To Joan she looked almost ethereal - she simply shone, and Joan wondered whether the woman in front of her could be some kind of angel.

But no, she knew this person. She swore did - but very quickly she was distracted as the woman moved. She held a paintbrush in front of her, and had applied paint and was now pressing it down delicately on a blank canvas. Joan hadn’t noticed the paint before, but even now the woman on front of them eclipsed the fact that anything else was were even there. Who was this woman? She couldn't see her face but she could sense a confidence and poise in her movements that captivated her. 

Blonde hair fell delicately down the smooth of her back, spilling over the loose white shirt that was now nearly falling off the woman's shoulder as she had moved. As the woman moved the paintbrush up to the top of the canvas, the swift movement made her hair catch the glint of the sun and the sight of it made Joan's breath catch in her throat. Then she quickly moved to the bottom of the canvas, which made one side of her white shirt fall completely off her shoulder, exposing more of the soft skin that looked like pure porcelain.

Joan longed to walk forward and touch her, this woman who had so captivated her. She longed to step forward and traipse her fingers down the small of her back that was still hidden under her shirt, she wanted to let the shirt fall, to pull it from the woman's shoulder and turn her around, so that she could see her properly, and fully. 

She wanted to place a delicate kiss on the soft neck that she could see taunt and beckoning, as The Woman stepped back to admire the two single lines that she had painted, crossing over each other in a perfect cross.

Joan wished she could cry out and ask the woman to turn around, because she swore she knew her from somewhere - and she so wanted to speak to this woman who had so entirely captured her breath and being. She'd never felt this way about a woman before, or even a person - this want, this need and this being entirely captivated by a person. She so wanted to know her. But for some reason the dream had robbed her of speech, as no words would appear in her throat, no matter how much she tried.

But then, all of a sudden, the woman's voice reached Joan's ears as she simply said her name. ‘Joan Watson.’ 

Her soft voice had a sharpness that made her heart pound hard against her chest and a pulsing warmth spread between her legs. On one hand, she really wanted to turn Jamie Moriarty’s around and kiss the voice out of her in gasps, or use it so that it made much louder, harsher sounds. On the other, she was shocked and surprised about the fact that she was having this kind of dream and feeling like this - about the Jamie Moriarty.

Before she could even think about it, Moriarty turned around to face her, and striped confidently across the road until she and Jamie were noise to noise. 

‘How nice to see you again, Joan.’ She whispered, and if Joan couldn't already speak then she would definitely not be able to speak now. God, she could have complete control over Joan if she just so must as said the word.

‘I do hope that we will see each other again soon.’ She said softly, her voice lower and more sultry. She tilted her head lower so that her lips were inches from Joan's. Joan reached up, her breath quickening, and their lips were just about to meet when -

Joan’s eyes snapped open the next morning. She breathed heavy, cold sweat dampening her forehead. Thankfully, that was one of the mornings that Sherlock didn't need to wake her up as they weren’t needed on a case.

She sat up and tried to untangle and analyse one of the first, and most intense dreams she'd had in a long time - but before she could, Moriarty’s sharp, sultry voice again filled her head. 

‘Would you be surprised to learn that you've been on my mind, Joan Watson?’

Well, not anymore. Joan thought, because it looks like we've got something in common after all. She sighed, as she rememberee the look of Moriarty’s soft lips and how the light fell onto her back - and she got ready for a whole lot of soul searching.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first Elementary fic! I knew this day would come, because I love the show so much.
> 
> Of course it would be about Joan and Jamie, who are my two favourite female characters on the show. They have so much chemistry - and Natalie and Lucy are amazing - it'll probably never happen, but that's what fics are for, right? :)
> 
> I really hope you like this, thanks so much for reading.


End file.
